Good People
by Cherusha
Summary: Mulder meets the the 'Little Black Dress' of Torchwood fame. Slashiness ensues. Crossover with Torchwood.


**Good People**  
_an X-Files/Torchwood crossover_  
Warning: An extremely **twee** fic.

Summary: Mulder meets the the 'Little Black Dress' of Torchwood fame. Slashiness ensues.

* * *

"Temporary," Skinner had assured him, but Mulder was still pissed. They had separated Scully and him yet again (Team Win he liked to call them) under the excuse that Scully had been selected to teach at some bogus month-long FBI training program in Tahiti.

Scully had accepted because a) incentive package and b) Tahiti.

"Treacherous female!" Mulder had called her. Scully actually looked hurt.

Mulder sighed. "Sorry, it's just that... you know how well the last time they tried to saddle me with another partner went."

"I understand, Mulder," said she, the caring-friend-cum-ice-queen. "But this is an incredible opportunity for me. And" she took his hand in hers "I love you. But I really need a vacation away from you."

"Maybe if I got my new partner to wear a red wig all the time, I could pretend you were still here. Then the month would be bearable."

"I'll be sure to visit you at the sanatorium when I get back."

"Goodbye, Scully. Spread my teachings," he waved goodbye to her as she got on the plane.

* * *

Mulder disliked him immediately.

He had that friendly, cheery, slightly saucy, 100 phony way of talking to anyone he met and it really grated on Mulder's nerves. He had strutted, literally _strutted_, around the office greeting everyone, from senior FBI agents to Marv, the pizza delivery boy. He actually made Skinner blush.

"Hello!" he said exuberantly as he approached Mulder's temporary desk (he was _not_ letting Cheer Boy anywhere near his basement). "You must be the Mulder I've heard SO much about!"

Cheer Boy stuck out his hand. "Jack Harkness. A pleasure to work with you."

But when Mulder wouldn't take up his handshake, he added, "I see, you're more of a kissing man. Now that I like." Then winked.

"Only with people _I_ like," said Mulder, grabbing the punk's hand faster than he would grab a inoculated UFO, shaking once, then letting go as if it was radioactive.

Harkness just laughed at him.

Oh yes, he definitely hated this guy.

* * *

Scully picked up her cell after the eleventh ring. "Mulder it's the middle of the night, what do you want?"

Mulder looked down at his watch. "It's the middle of the night _here_. It's only 8pm where you are, what are you doing?"

"I was in the middle of my massa-- ah, lecture. It's an evening course."

"Good save."

"Thanks. Now was there a reason you called me?"

Mulder couldn't help smiling at her directness. "Would you believe I called you because I missed you?" he said.

"Being that I've only been gone for two days? No."

"Scully, I'm starting to think you don't take this relationship seriously."

There was a sigh on the other end. "How's your new partner, Mulder?"

"Oh, Jackturd? Don't come back, Scully. He's brainwashed everyone into falling in love with him."

"And I take it you're the only one unaffected."

"Only I, am able to see through his evil plan."

A pause. "You think he's evil?"

"You know how it is. Man shows up all wholesome American boy, says he wants to learn about aliens, next thing you know he stabs you in the back, kills your father, leaves you in a Russian prison and kisses you on the cheek! In that order. I tried explaining that to Skinner but he just told me to take the rest of the day off and get some more sun. And then Harkness offered to drive me home because he said I looked a little off-balance. Luckily I escaped or else I'd be welcoming you home in a body bag. My body. In a bag. In the MORGUE."

"Wait a minute. Krycek kissed you?" was the shocked reply.

"Scully, have you heard one word I said? My life is in danger."

"Krycek kissed you." was the shocked reaffirmation.

Mulder sighed heavily into the phone.

"Right. Life. Danger." And then she burst into a fit of giggles. "Mulder, take some aspirin. Go to bed."

"Hey, Scully?"

"Yeah?"

"If the next time you see me has me in a body bag, just remember it'll be on your conscience."

"Yeah, yeah. Mind if I let you go now? Francois has just motioned me to- uh, answer his training-related, totally relevant question. Bye now!"

Click.

* * *

Mulder was angsting. He was stuck in a car with Jackturd in a stakeout that was sure to go nowhere. _And_ he had forgotten to pack his sunflower seeds. His mouth watered at the thought of salty goodness touching his tongue. His ears quivered in longing for the snap-crack snap-crack sounds of comfort. His hands fidgeted for something to do, something to hold... He thought about returning home and leaving Jackturd to do all the work. After all, he had the right as senior agent, dammit! He thought about his warm, comfortable couch. He thought about his 'collection'. He thought about purple flying cows and cigarette smoking sheep. He thought about the moral ambiguity in wanking off next to your junior partner. With any luck it would freak him out enough to go crying to Skinner for a transfer.

Then he thought about how Jackturd had batted his lashes at Skinner, as well as every other person in the _building_, and decided against that course of action.

Jackturd was softly singing to himself now. Mulder wanted to reach for a pillow. Embarrassedly, he recognized the tune as one from "Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat". Not that he was a fan of showtunes, not by far! It was just catchy.

"It was red and yellow and green and brown," Jackturd was singing. "And scarlet and black and purple and peach..."

"Ochre," said Mulder.

"Hmmmm?"

"And scarlet and black and _ochre_ and peach."

Jackturd laughed, clapping his hands. "Very good! And I thought you weren't paying attention to me."

Mulder folded his arms and said nothing, returning to stare at the building across the street. He really needed those sunflower seeds right about now. How smug was this jackass. He should just get back to totally ignoring him. Yeah, that'll show the egocentric flirt. The man was now humming "How do you solve a problem like Maria." If he was going to go into West Side Story, Mulder was going to sock him in his happy, smiling face, assault charge-and-trial-plus-suspension be damned.

A little old lady entered the building having returned from walking her five white poodles. It was going to be an exciting night.

Then completely unbidden, Mulder realized that Harkness had flirted relentlessly with everyone in the office, everyone except him. Feelings of inadequacy started springing up like weeds in an unkept garden and he viciously hacked them down.

But it still bothered him. In fact it bothered him so much that he almost turned around and asked "How come you never bat your lashes at me?", which would have been so embarrassingly ridiculous that Mulder would have deliberately sought out Cancer Man and begged him to put him out of his misery.

He stewed on that little fantasy for the rest of the night.

* * *

He sought out Krycek instead.

"How did you get this number," said the gruff voice on the other side of the phone.

"You didn't think I could? You're not the only one with people. I have people, too, y'know."

A long yawn followed. "Mulder, it's the middle of the night."

"Oh, so backstabbing triple-agent assassins need to sleep, too? Good to know."

"If your entire purpose was to wake me up in the middle of the night just to yell at me, I'll be hanging up now. I have an important secret meeting with Evil Backstabbers 'R' Us at 7am tomorrow."

"But you just told me... So it isn't secret anymore."

"Bye, Mulder!"

"No, wait!" Mulder fiddled with the stuffing in a couch cushion, wondering how he should phrase the next bit. "So..."

"So."

"Have you ever thought about switching to the side of good?" Mulder winced. Even to his own ears, he sounded like a used car salesman.

"Mulder are you drunk?"

"Why is everyone asking me if I'm drunk? I'm not drunk. In fact I haven't touched liquor for a week. Krycek, you sound like Scully."

There was a pause. "I guess I'll take that as a compliment."

"That's good. Scully is good. Scully is on the side of good. That means you'll think about my offer," Mulder smiled into the phone.

"What offer?!" cried an exasperated Krycek. "You just asked me to switch teams, which, by the way, I wasn't on any particular team to begin with!"

"All the more easier for you to join us," said Mulder, rolling his eyes like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Yeah. Right. Okay. I'll join you. You may pick up my body bag tomorrow after I announce to the world that I'll be joining Mulder's side from now on. Okay."

Mulder chuckled. "Don't be silly. They wouldn't leave your body for _anyone_ to find."

Krycek didn't answer that.

Mulder switched tactics. "No, seriously. Just think about it, yeah?"

"New partner not working out?"

Mulder could almost hear the smirk on the other end. It was like Krycek had been waiting for the right opportunity to use that little card.

"How do you know about my partner?"

"Mulder, _everyone_ knows about your partner. The entire Evil Backstabbers 'R' Us organization knows about your partner. What, you can't stand him so much that you're willing to risk me, a known spy and killer, rather than him? Did he come on to you or something?"

'You're more of an asset to us,' he thought about saying. Or 'you know your way around a gun' or 'you have inside information that could help us.' Instead what came out of his mouth was a lame "You have nicer eyes."

Krycek laughed at him, and Mulder was starting to get tired of everyone laughing at him. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Mulder. Only actions."

"Then why did you kiss me?" he blurted out.

"Because, Mulder. You should be kissed and often. And by someone who knows how."

Click.

Well. Fiddle-dee-dee.

* * *

It was their fifth night of silent stakeouting. Mulder finally broke the silence.

"If you strike me down, I shall become more powerful than you can possibly imagine," Mulder said.

Harkness raised an eyebrow. "Thank you, Obi-Wan. And did I say that you are the most irritating partner to work with?"

"Part of my charm," Mulder smirked.

They were silent for a few minutes. A twenty-something couple entered the building holding hands. Sometime later, a man in a top hat and cape exited it, turned the corner and disappeared from sight. Mulder took out his sunflower seeds and leaned back against his seat.

"And just to clear up all this tension," said Harkness, as if they were still in the middle of a conversation, "I'm not trying to kill you."

Mulder shrugged. "Don't think you are."

"Or trying to abduct you," he continued. "Or kidnap you or betray you or drug you or shag you."

Snap-crack-spit. Snap-crack-spit. "And they say _I'm_ the paranoid one."

Mulder offered Harkness his bag. "Oh, go on. I'm not going to poison you," he said at Harkness's wide-eyed stare. "I've figured it out. Partially, at least."

Harkness flashed Mulder such a dazzling smile that so blinded Mulder for a second, a sunflower seed fell right out of his mouth. The display of weakness only widened Harkness's smile. "So. You finally broke into my files, did you?"

"Torchwood. That's an amazing organization you're leading. But I suppose it would be a waste of time to ask for information and evidence to bring down the Consortium."

"The Consortium's time is limited. A number of people are working as we speak to bring about its inevitable collapse. And you," Harkness turned to look directly at him, "already have the answers. You just don't know it yet."

"I wish my informants would stop speaking to me in cryptic messages," Mulder mused.

Harkness winked. "Not my fault. It's in the rules every informant has to follow."

Mulder shook his head. "Since it is our last stakeout, I should say that in hindsight, it wasn't _that_ bad working with you. You make good coffee."

Harkness sat up. "You see something?"

Mulder pointed. "That building. We've been watching it for five nights, from 8pm to 2am. Now, in addition to the haphazard visitors and whatnot who enter and leave the building, we see some consistent activity each day."

Harkness nodded. "Around 8:15, the old lady leaves to walk her dogs. 8:20, the investment banker returns home, with a different girl every night, I should add. At 8:30, the magician in the cape leaves for his night show. At 9pm, quickstop clerk leaves for his night shift. 9:10, the old lady returns with her dogs. At 10pm, the dancer comes home. And 1am, the girl leaves the investment banker's room. No more consistent activity for the rest of the evening."

"Okay, so what do we know about each of them?"

"The old lady's name is Margaret Rochester. She's retired from teaching Physics for twenty years at Feathertone High School. Before that she was a teacher at the Central High School. She's a widow now and goes to a knitting club every Saturday.

"The i-banker is Jim Brown, a notorious playboy, lives in the penthouse. Votes Republican in every election, loves hunting, golfs some weekends, also a big contributor to the Institute for Multiple Sclerosis and volunteers whenever he can, who'd have thought?

"Now the magician, Lawrence Karinsky, he has quite a history. Ran away from home, drugs, drug trafficking, been in jail for three counts of larceny, been to rehab also three times, may have connections with the mob, maintains an admirable balcony garden, subscribes to Gardening Today.

"The dancer is Isabelle Scholl, still in college, studying PolySci with a minor in Italian. Works nights at Blue Kitty to help pay for tuition. Straight A student.

"Quite an interesting group. I'd like to get to know all of them biblically. But nothing to suggest any of them are an X-File."

Mulder had the superior air of someone who was brilliant. "What do we know about Mrs. Rochester's dogs?"

Harkness blinked back, dumbfounded. "Dogs?"

"I've watched these dogs five times. And each time, it's as if they're leading her, not the other way around. She's just passively along for the ride. And don't you think it's odd that all five dogs look exactly the same? All white, all French poodles, all the same size, the same height. Have you ever heard them bark? Or even yip? And also... I called the landlord. The building doesn't allow pets."

Harkness unleashed those ever-dazzling teeth. "Oh ho! He told me you were good! That's all the conclusive argument _I_ need to go on." He turned to Mulder and explained. "My team had traced an escaped Leviasloth to this location. Would make sense that it'd be using the time to hide and replicate. Leviasloths feed at night, so that would be why they need to be walked out every night." He visibly shuddered. "God, their poor victims."

He handed Mulder a peculiar looking instrument that looked like a cross between a gun and a miniature tripod. "Ever worked with one of these before? It fires cormian bullets, which is the only way to kill them."

Mulder weighed its heft. "You're going to confiscate the bodies of these... aliens aren't you?"

"You betcha."

"You know, sometimes I think you're just making all of this up."

Harkness shrugged. "Doesn't mean there's no truth in it."

Mulder opened his door. "And yet I still help you. Because I am a Good Person."

* * *

And in conclusion, they killed the Leviasloths (or whatever they were) in front of a traumatized Margaret. It all worked out smoothly, however, because Jack (Mulder thought it was appropriate to think of him in terms of his first name now that they had fought aliens together) charmed the old lady out of her wits. He had kissed her hand, pardoned himself for the highly inappropriate intrusion, got her a glass of water to calm her frayed nerves, and drugged her with an amnesiac sleeping pill.

To Mulder's dismay, he kept his promise about hogging the bodies all to himself.

"Well, Agent Mulder," he said, shaking his hand one final time the day of his departure. "It's been great working with you."

"To my eternal surprise, same here," Mulder said sincerely, returning the handshake.

Jack laughed his infectious laugh. "Drop by if you ever find yourself (God knows why) in Cardiff. I'd love to show you around the place."

"Hey, if we ever bring down the Consortium, I have about ten years of vacation time I haven't used yet. So maybe I will."

Jack shook a finger. "I'll hold you to it then." He then picked up his luggage and started for the departure gate.

"Jack!" Mulder called after.

Jack turned around. "Yep?"

Remembering an earlier conversation, he asked, "Who was it that said I was 'good'?"

Jack winked.

"Alex Krycek, of course."

Mulder stood, speechless and still, watching Jack cross security and barely seeing him at all. Puzzles were piecing together, one by one: Tahiti, the coincidental partnering, the non-lash batting, the phone convo, the building, the poodles, the information...

Fifteen minutes later, Mulder crossed from the departure gate to the arrival gate and welcomed Scully with open arms. "I'm so glad you're back."

"Oof!" cried Scully at the tight squeeze Mulder gave her. She back away and smiled. "I see you have all your parts intact. So, anything happen while I was gone?"

Mulder shrugged. "Nothin'."

Scully gave Mulder a strange look.

* * *

-end-

* * *

EPILOGUE:

Mulder flicked on the light, drained after a long day of chasing after mutant cattle. All he wanted to do was wash and sleep.

He found Krycek in his kitchen, helping himself to a sandwich. Mulder didn't even feel like throwing the welcoming punch like he usually did. Instead he crossed to the fridge and got out a beer.

"Want one?" asked Krycek, gesturing to the sandwich.

In the living room, they ate side by side in silence.

"So," said Mulder, wiping the crumbs off his pants.

"So," echoed Krycek.

"So. Was this elaborate scheme entirely necessary just so you could tell me you had switch sides?"

"No, Mulder," said Krycek, completely seriously. "It was entirely necessary just so I could get into your pants."

"What?"

"Oh, please. Like you didn't figure that out either."

Mulder backed away some. "A little warning first would have been helpful!"

"Yes," said Krycek leaning closer. "But actions speak louder then words." He reached up and flicked off the lights.

* * *

EPILOGUE (OF THE EPILOGUE):

Mulder thought it was high time to start thinking of Alex in terms of his first name now.


End file.
